


For What a Hug's Worth

by Larkawolfgirl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, M/M, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-06 02:57:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12808125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: Nothing felt safer than Gladio’s arms. If only he could burrow himself there for eternity. Life is not so kind.





	For What a Hug's Worth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Gladnoct week's day 3 prompt: Noctis loves Gladio's hugs. why did I make this innocent, cute prompt angsty?

Somewhere along the line, Gladio noticed just how small and vulnerable Prince Noctis was. Beyond his lazy, bratty exterior was a lonely, fragile child. After the marilith attack, he was secluded to the citadel for nearly a year. Meeting Princess Lunafreya cheered him up for a time, but then the war began and he became worse off than before (clutching their friendship journal to his chest for entire days before sending it back to her). Going to school should have helped him grow more attachments, but it didn’t. Despite meeting tons of kids his own age, Noctis would return home immediately after school pleading to see his “only friends” (which consisted of Ignis, Gladio’s sister, and Gladio himself).

At first, Gladio wasn’t sure how he felt about being friends with him. They didn’t seem to have a lot in common, but the more time he spent with him, the more pity he felt for the poor boy. All he wanted was to reach out for companionship that he rarely received. Ignis was stable in his life, virtually a crutch for the lack of his father in his life, but he was nearly as busy as Regis himself and not able to give Noctis as much bonding as he required.

Which left Gladio.

He knew from experience with his sister that physical contact was often what people needed when they were feeling down—and according to his sister, he was born to be a huggable bear. That was why Gladio opened his arms for Noctis when he found him crying on his bed one afternoon when he went to get him for their training session. Noctis hesitated only a moment before burrowing his entire body into Gladio, whose strong arms encircled him fully. It was an odd feeling, holding his future king as he trembled from some internal struggle.

“Shh,” Gladio whispered, placing a thoughtless kiss on the crown of his head. “You’re fine.” Noctis burrowed deeper against him, mumbling something Gladio could not make out. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He could feel Noctis’ lips against his shirt this time when he mumbled louder in a trembling voice, “Promise?”

Gladio’s arms tightened, enough to reassure but not harm (this was something he was working on). “Yeah. Me and Iggy’ll always be here. I swear on my father’s name.” Noctis groaned, which Gladio found odd. “Hey, squirt, what do ya have against my dad?”

“Nothing.” He was closing himself off again, and Gladio locked his arms securely as the boy tried to push out of his hold.

“What’s your deal?” When he didn’t answer, Gladio gave a sigh and softened his voice. “Hey, you can tell me.”

His mumbled reply sounded like, “Wan friend.”

“We are your friends.”

Noctis shook his head as best he could. Gladio frowned.

“Cause we’re your attendants?”

Noctis nodded, his arms tugging gently at the back of Gladio’s shirt.

“That’s just stupid. That doesn’t make us any less sincere, actually, it probably makes us even more so. We know you better than any kid at school could, right?”

Noctis was still and silent for a moment before his body relaxed. “Thanks.” A pause. “For being here.”

“Anytime,” he said, surprised by how much he meant it.

Noctis had no shame in seeking comfort where he could. Ignis was always there and willing with assurances, but whenever things hit rock bottom (when it felt the world threatened to cave in around him) it was Gladio he would seek out. No matter the time of night, Gladio would come when called, with little or no explanation.

Once, after Gladio had crawled onto his bed and lifted his arm to offer his chest, Noctis asked why he always came. Gladio’s arm draped over him, holding him close and secure. “I can’t protect you from this emotional stuff. But if I can make it better, that’s what I’m gonna do”

 _Because it’s your duty?_ Noctis did not ask, too afraid of an unwanted answer.

“You’ll always be my top priority, princess.” So often spoken as a jab, now the nickname came as an endearment, and Noctis pressed his face into the crook of his neck.

Nothing felt safer than Gladio’s arms.

His father was dead.

If the world was caving in before, now it was crumbling around him. There was scant stable footing, but looking to Gladio’s composed expression, Noctis knew he needed to find it. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in Gladio’s enveloping arms, but this was not the time. They had no time to spare, and he knew that if he gave in, he would be unlikely to ever move forward willingly. When he met Gladio’s eyes, they were hard and red-rimmed. _Don’t you dare break down now_ , they said. This was so much worse than anything before, but that was exactly why he had to stay strong.

He had to be a prince…A king. Even if he didn’t feel like one.

Noctis was running. His enemy close at his heels. He staggered, hand clasping at his chest as he panted for breath. The world was dark around him. Faces appeared in the darkness only to fizzle out when he reached for them. His father, Lunafreya, Iris, Ignis, Prompto, Gladiolus. He called their names, but when he did, something thick and tangible entered his mouth. He gagged, the edges of his vision blurring. He heard his name, a whisper, then a shout. Initially his father’s voice, but it soon morphed into Gladio’s. There was a tightening in his chest, then his throat, and then the world went dark.

Noctis awoke with a start. He was safe inside the tent nestled between the guys, Prompto to his front and Gladio to his back. He was safe, yet his body didn’t seem to understand this. It shook and tears stung his eyes. As much as he tried to stop, he couldn’t, so he focused instead on being quiet and moving as little as possible so as not to wake the others. He must not have done as well of a job as he thought because Gladio’s arm came across his chest to pull him flush against him.

“You alright?” came his gruff voice at his ear.

“Yeah,” he lied.

“Nightmare?”

Noctis nodded, already feeling his body relaxing due to the contact.

“It’s okay. Just let it out.”

Gladio’s own voice sounded raspy as if he himself were crying. Noctis wanted to turn to see him, but something held him back.

They were silent after that, and Noctis laid there crying for a long time. He cried for his father, for his country, and for older injuries. For his mother, for his lack of a real childhood, for Luna’s predicament. Finally, sleep found him, and when he woke again in the afternoon, things were just as bad but he felt better than he had since leaving Insomnia.

It was too much.

The world was crumbling and caving in at the same time and there was no hope of finding something solid to hold onto. Lunafreya was dead, Ignis was blind, and he was a powerless coward. The ring of Lucii burned into his skin, screaming at him to claim its power—to become king—but he made no move to do so.

He was unworthy.

This world was shitty, and he was entirely incapable of dealing with it.

Judgement was heavy in the air. Prompto’s anxiety, Ignis’ weariness, Gladio’s ire. It was no surprise that Gladio blew up at him while the others sat by.

“You little brat! Don’t you give a shit about, Ignis?”

“We have to get to Gralea,” Noctis said dispassionately.

Gladio grabbed the scruff of his shirt collar. “He’s blind! Do you even care about that?”

“So, what?” Noctis refused to meet his fiery gaze. “What’s done is done. We have a job to do.”

Gladio snarled, his fist shaking so much Noctis thought he might toss his across the train compartment. “That’s rich. If you are really so focused on getting the job done, why’s that ring still in your hand instead of on it?” Noctis set his mouth into a thin line.

Gladio released him with enough force to make him stagger. “Cause you’re just a brat. I thought you’d matured, but guess I was wrong. Iggy’s done so much for you, yet this is how you repay him?”

“Gladio,” Ignis cautioned.

Prompto looked between them, as if he was unsure whose side he was on.

“Of course, I care,” Noctis mumbled.

“Huh? What was that?” Gladio nearly roared.

“Of course, I care!” Noctis snapped. “It’s swallowing me up, but I don’t have time to just sit here feeling sorry for myself. None of us do!”

“Hah!” Gladio laughed mirthlessly. “Now you get it? Even so, good deal it’ll do us to get to Gralea as we are. Whatcha gonna do as you are? Especially with Specs out of commission.”

“I don’t know, okay?” Noctis’ fists clenched, breath coming too harshly. “What do you want from me?”

“What the hell do you think? I want you to be king. I want you to man the hell up for once.”

Noctis shook his head, a hysterical laugh in his throat. “You think you’re so tough. Nothing ever touches you. You’d never understand how I feel. Igs lost his sight, and _I_ failed to protect him. And Luna and Dad. I’m helpless. I’m just as helpless as I was all those years ago when Niflheim attacked.”

“Then you just gotta get stronger, and the first step is putting that damn ring on.”

“I can’t be something I’m not. What if I do, and it doesn’t work? What if they reject me and we’re left no better off? What if this really is the end of the world and it’s all my fault?”

“You’ll never know till you try.”

“Yeah, well I’m sick of trying and failing.”

“You little…”

Gladio grabbed his collar again and lifted. This time he was about to toss him, and oddly, Noctis didn’t even care. A part of him wanted that pain, felt he deserved it. Before he could, though, Prompto was tugging at his hold.

“Gladio, stop!”

High on emotion, Gladio swatted at Prompto with far too much force, sending the poor man tumbling to the ground. Seeing what he’d done, Gladio set his jaw in displeasure.

Noctis wanted to help Prompto up, but he forced his face back into dispassion. “I think we’re done here.” With that, he turned away from them and exited the train compartment.

The endless onslaught of daemons cut out only a minute or so after Noctis passed through the elevator. Almost as if they had been nothing more than a diversion to separate him from his companions. Gladio was the first to sheath his weapon, Prompto still shooting at the tiny lingering horde and Ignis straining his ears for signs of more on their way.

“Guys,” Gladio called in their direction, “we should go. Now.” His words came harsher than he meant, but anxiety was welling in his veins.

Ignis nodded, beginning their advance. Prompto was slower to react, still attempting to shoot down his target, but when he heard their footsteps heading away, he quickly followed.

They could feel the crystal, its energy guiding them to it in a straight line. But there, all they saw was a dim purplish black rock and an all-too-pleased Ardyn.

He did something to Noctis, Gladio knew it. On pure impulse, he called his greatsword from the armiger, striking with full intent to kill only to watch the blade slash right through the chancellor as if he were nothing but air. Following his lead, Prompto began to fire a series of shots. One made its mark and the chancellor fell. They all stared at his too still body. Then, as if nothing had happened at all, Ardyn rose to his feet and continued walking away from them.

Bile rose in Gladio’s throat. “What did you do to him?” he growled.

Ardyn threw his head over his shoulder, smirking. “I didn’t do anything. It is the Astrals you can blame for this. All of this, actually.” Facing forward again, he tipped his hat forward—the bastard. “Have a _blessed_ day. Oh, sorry my mistake. _Night_.”

None of them tried to stop the man from leaving. There was nothing they could do.

Was this how Noctis had felt? Incapacitated by powerlessness? Gods, he never apologized for how he’d acted on the train and now would he ever have the chance? His hand tightened on the greatsword still in his hand. No, the armiger was still functional, which meant Noctis was still alive.

He would be back.

Neither Prompto nor Ignis spoke, both grave-faced and inching closer together. Gladio watched as Prompto settled a hand on Ignis’ shoulder, just holding (for support or to give it, Gladio could not tell).

“Hey, Prom?” The blonde’s only acknowledgment was an incline of the head. “I’m sorry about before. Ya know, on the train.” It was a strange way to break the silence with their king gone and Ardyn’s ominous prophecy looming over them, but it felt necessary.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Gladio knew when Prompto was straining himself, but that was fine. He didn’t need forgiveness.

There Noctis was in front of him. Gladio took a lumbering step forward, pausing just long enough to ask his name before continuing toward him. He tugged him to his chest, needing to feel instead of just see to know that he was real. Noctis did not even flinch in surprise, instead melting against him as if it was his natural state. The thought rekindled a light in Gladio he had not felt in entire years. “You came back.”

“Course I did.” Gladio’s skin warmed where his mouth traced against the fabric of his tank top.

He was all too aware of the other two closing in around them and that he had no right to monopolize him like this, so he forced himself to let go. Noctis didn’t seem happy about it either, even as he smiled at Prompto and Ignis. Prompto was quick to take his place, wrapping his arms around the prince’s neck and clinging.

“Man, I missed you so much!”

Noctis touched his back. “I missed you, too. How long have I been gone?”

“Like a decade.”

Noctis went pale. “Astrals.” He squeezed him a bit tighter before pushing at Prompto’s shoulder gently. “Prom?”

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” he said sheepishly, falling in line beside Gladio.

They watched as Noctis brought Ignis into a hug. It was strange watching them share these hugs. They weren’t the same as those they used to share freely between the four of them. These were from the heart. He wasn’t exactly jealous, though he did have a burning desire to wrap his arms around his prince and never let go.

They were at camp. Across from him, he watched Noctis through the flame of the campfire.

The next time the sun rose, he’d be gone.

Again.

Anger flared, and Gladio opened his mouth to let out a shout of some kind, but Noctis’ stare stopped him. It was the stare of a king. Gladio’s mouth clenched shut. Just his luck Noctis would finally embrace his role now of all times. Through these years of darkness, he always dreamt of the day Noctis would return and bring the light with him. Never did he think it would be like this.

“Sorry to ask this of you. It’s selfish. I could have just gone and done this myself.”

“No,” Gladio said immediately. “We would have known as soon as the light hit, and I would never have forgiven you.”

Noctis gave a thin smile. “I know.”

“This is as much our fight as yours, Noct,” Ignis said, taking his hand in his.

Prompto reached for his shoulder. “Sure, it hurts,” Prompto said quietly, “but seeing you’s worth it.”

“Thanks.” The words were for Prompto and Noctis clasped his hand over his, but his eyes were locked onto Gladio’s. Gladio’s skin tingled with the need to touch him as well, but he was too far away.

“Can I say goodbye to each of you privately?” Noctis asked.

“Of course,” Ignis said. “If no one objects, might I be first?”

“Sure, Iggy,” Gladio said, reading in Noctis’ eyes that he will be saved for last.

He and Prompto moved into the tent. They could hear faint murmurs but couldn’t make out any of the words.

Prompto fidgeted with his wristband. “I’m kind of nervous. Haven’t talked to him in so long.”

“Yeah,” Gladio said in understanding. He had missed so much. They were different now. Darker. “Don’t worry about it. He’s always brought out the best in you, he’s not gonna fail now.”

Prompto smiled, but his eyes were questioning. “Could say the same about you. You haven’t been this supportive since he left.”

Gladio grunted but didn’t defend himself. It was true.

The voices outside fell silent, and soon Ignis was unzipping the tent’s door flap. “Prompto, you are next.”

The gunner hopped up, exiting the tent with a lightness to his step which had been absent for years now. Gladio wondered if it would be gone again come sunrise.

Ignis settled on his knees across from him, looking oddly calm. “How’re you doing?” Gladio asked.

“Physically, fine. In regards to Noctis, as well as can be expected. I’ve made my peace.”

“I see,” Gladio said tightly. “That simple?”

“We may not have known it, but his job has always been to bring back the light, not rule. He is merely fulfilling his destiny.”

“A shitty destiny.”

Ignis gave a rueful smile. “Yes.” Silence. “I take it this is harder for you.”

“Damn right.”

“Gladiolus,” he said measuredly, “our jobs end here. Tomorrow we are common crownsguard, nothing more. We are to ensure Noctis reaches Ardyn in one piece, that is all.”

Ignis’ unseeing gaze was impossible to meet. “What if I can’t?”

“Let him die? Then I will stop you, if I must.”

“Shit.” Gladio wanted to punch something. No, he wanted to punch whichever God thought this was righteous.

“Gladio.” Ignis touched his forearm. “Calm yourself. Do not upset His Majesty. You will have enough time to deal with your own emotions later.”

Gladio hated that he was right. His anger would do no good at this point. There were no other paths they could take, especially now that Noctis’ mind had been made up. Only, when he repressed the anger, what came to replace it was sadness, an emotion he was less capable of controlling.

Just then, Prompto burst into the tent telling him it was his turn which left him no time to even attempt to. Gladio swallowed, sighed, and gave Prompto a nod in his direction before heading out to his waiting king.

Noctis looked so different now. Longer, ragged hair, a beard, tired yet resolute eyes, squared shoulders, and official garments. He was reminded of Regis, and that comparison set his stomach twisting. The image was easily removed by the light of the campfire, a comforting reminder that this was still the Noctis he used to watch doze off while playing King’s Knight in that very folding chair.

Gladio sat in the chair to his left, turning it so that he was close enough for their knees to bump together.

“Hey,” Noctis said with a shaky smile.

Instead of replying, Gladio just pulled him close, wrapping his arms around him as he used to so long ago. His body more than remembered, doing the equivalent of sighing in relief at the touch it had been forced off of cold turkey. _Don’t you dare leave me again_ , rested on his tongue unuttered. He had no right. As much as he paraded over him in the past, Noctis was still his king and he the servant.

“I’m sorry, Gladio. I know this is hard.”

“Do you? You’re asking me to go against everything I’ve been trained for.”

“Will it be any easier if I order you to?”

Gladio didn’t realize he was trembling until Noctis’ hands pressed his face into the crook of his neck before wrapped around his back so that Gladio was the one being cuddled. He was such a failure of a shield.

“Does it matter?” he choked out, throat suddenly raw.

Noctis undid his ponytail, stroking through his long hair. “Yeah.”

“For you, it’ll be over, but we’ll have to keep on living.” _Without you._

“All I ever wanted was to live on with you guys, so if I can at least let you do so in my place, then I’m gonna. I can’t just let the world end. I can’t.”

Gladio got it. He really did, and that only made the twist in his stomach that much worse. He buried his face deeper into Noctis’ neck, breathing in the smell of him (somehow still familiar), trying to find some bit of comfort there. “Yeah.”

Noctis kept holding him, and Gladio let him. He let him until tears found his eyes without him realizing. Noctis must have known, but he said nothing, just holding him tight. When the tears ceased, and Gladio could think clearly for the first time since seeing his king again, the irony fully dawned on him. Noctis always seemed so weak and lonely, something in need of protection. But now, here he was strong and sure while Gladio had been lost entirely without him and would surely be without him again. With all his muscles, quick temper, and confidence, he was the weak and lonely one.

_What am I without you?_

“We should get some sleep,” Noctis said, running a hand down his back.

Gladio nodded, letting his arms fall to his side and sitting up straight.

Tomorrow, he would watch Noctis leave never to return.

Tomorrow, the sun would rise again.


End file.
